


I know it's wrong, but that's the way it goes

by LittleHandGrenade



Series: The Purrfect Neighbor [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:07:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4288410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleHandGrenade/pseuds/LittleHandGrenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is there a particular reason for you being stuck in my kitchen window?”</p><p>Or in which Louis cat is a fucking traitor, starting with the fact that it was never his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know it's wrong, but that's the way it goes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadGirlRunningWild](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=BadGirlRunningWild).



> Based on the tumblt prompt: “What do you mean this is your cat? Sprinkles has been coming here for years for food”. I did this without a Beta and English is not my mother language, so expect this to be weirdly written, with probably a weird mix of tenses. This one is for BadGirlRunningWild, because she loves those bad boys, I tried honey. Hope you all like it.

_He thinks I’m crazy_

_(Judging by the faces that he’s making)_

Louis Tomlinson swears that if he gets out of there alive, he will quit smoking for a week, even a month if he gets out _right away_. He closes his eyes and groans, trying to push himself out of that fucking window and failing miserably just as the other hundred times he has attempted to do so in the last hours. Judging by the sunlight that illuminates the kitchen -that it’s practically none at this point- it must be really late. And that only makes him get more and more frustrated every second that passes while he’s still stuck in a window, arse pointed to the sky and his legs flouncing on the other side of the window over the fire escape.

 Sitting on the counter and staring at him with its wide green eyes, Mr. Whiskers licks his paw distractedly.

 Louis grunts catching the animal’s attention.

 “Do you know that all of this is entirely your fault, don’t you?” asks Louis, his blue eyes looking directly into the green ones of the cat. If looks could kill, that cat would have already lost his seven lives. However, he doesn’t seem to be impressed answering to Louis accusations with a simple ‘ _meow_ ’.

 Louis rolls his eyes.

 “When I get out of here –and it’d better be soon, I’ll take you back home and give you a bath with cold water!” he threatens. Mr. Whiskers stares at him for a few minutes before jumping to the tile and leaving the kitchen.

 “No, no, no, get back, I was just kidding, get back!” Louis pleads. He only hears Mr. Whiskers moving around in what must be the living room and he sighs, his head hanging down over the sink as a sign of surrender.

  _Oh god_ , he thinks, _is this day EVER gonna end?_

 

 

When Louis came home that evening after his shift on Starbucks, he was expecting to spend his free afternoon with nothing more than a cup of tea and maybe a marathon of Orange is the New Black.

  _He’s like that, a simple man that enjoys the simple pleasures of life_.

 And everything could have gone according to the plan if he had just gone to his room and put on his pajamas right after he crossed the door of his apartment, just as he was willing to do since he had left the place earlier in the morning. But he didn’t. And that was just his first mistake.

 Louis had heard a noise in the kitchen and headed up there, dropping his school bag on the couch. He entered the little room looking for whatever could have caused the noise when he heard something outside. He stuck his head out of the window, finding Mr. Whiskers on the top of the fire escape, jumping in an attempt to reach the window cornice of the upstairs neighbor's apartment. There was also a broken a flower pot lying on the stairs, which Louis assumed was the noise he have heard when he entered his flat.

 “Whiskers” yelled Louis, and the cat stopped for a moment, looking directly at him “Come back here right now!”

 The black and white feline returned to his incessant jumping ignoring his order and Louis frowned. 

“Don’t make me go out there and take you back here Whiskers.”

 Like he hadn’t said anything the cat continued jumping and Louis sighed. That stupid cat was going to be the end of him and his nerves. No that he didn’t love him. Louis had found Whiskers on his apartment just a few months after he moved there, one night when the weather was particularly terrible. There was a big thunderstorm and the rain was falling heavily over the city. Louis had stood-up from his bed to close the kitchen window in order to prevent it from getting all wet and he found the cat curled in the sink, trying to find refuge from the rain.

 And he let him stay, thinking it would have left in the morning.

 This effectively happened. When Louis woke up the next day the cat was gone and he almost forgot about it when he heard a noise in his living room that night. Louis got out of his room holding and umbrella -ready to use it as a weapon against the intruder, when he saw the animal lying on the couch. Louis tried to take him out, but the cat refused and he finally surrendered and allowed him to stay the night. And the same scene was repeated for a whole week, until Louis finally decided that if the cat wanted to stay he wouldn’t do anything about it unless its owner appeared.

 That was two years ago and Louis had grown fond of Whiskers, as he decided to name him since he didn’t have a collar or anything. He was used to the cat moving around in and outside his apartment and he usually never bothered in worrying about where he might go during the hours it disappeared. 

 And he probably wouldn’t have worried that time neither, but while he was deciding to get back home and continue with his plans he saw completely horrified how Whiskers reached the neighbor’s window and entered the apartment.

And damn, Louis knew his cat well enough to know he was a total mess. And the last thing he wanted was having to pay for the disaster it would definitely make if he was left alone in a stranger’s apartment. What if the neighbor had a collection of ancient china vases and Whiskers broke them all? Then Louis would have to sell his apartment to pay and he would be so ruined, he’ll end up living under a bridge or something as overly dramatic as that.

 Using all his abilities, Louis jumped on the sink and then through his kitchen window, hoping not to land on his face against the metallic stairs. He climbed the ladder carefully, doing his best not to look down. He lived in a ninth floor and the idea of falling from there just because of his cat’s magnificent idea of invading someone else’s property was not something he really wanted to experience. He took a deep breath when he stepped on the platform, feeling a little relieved. Now he only had to convince Mr. Whiskers to get out of there and he will continue with his plans of a relaxing evening.

Louis peeked from the window that was slightly open and he could watch Whiskers lying happily on the counter.

 “Mr. Whiskers, come here right now!” he murmured. The cat licked its paw, completely ignoring him and Louis frowned. He took sit on the platform beside the broken flower pot, his back against the brick wall, biting his lip while trying to make a decision. He could let the cat in there and hope it would eventually get bored and got back home by itself or… He could just sneak out in the neighbor’s apartment, take his cat with him and pretend that never happened.

Who would notice anyway?

 So he decided to open the neighbor’s kitchen window as much as he could –since it seemed to be stuck. Just a little bit, he thought; just enough for him to fit inside, take his cat and get out there quickly. In retrospect, that was definitely his second mistake. The worst part is he actually felt confident about it, almost tasting the victory on his tongue. It was easy as take a candy from a baby –not that he had ever done that (unless you counted his sisters, who definitely don’t count because they are his family).

 He took a deep breath before leaning through the window.

  _Please don’t let my head get stuck; please don’t let my head get stuck_ , he thought. He smiled when his head was inside the apartment –which, by the way, smelled like vanilla. It was time for his shoulders to fit across the small gap and he cheered when it was done.

 He only needed to get his bum and legs inside the place and…

  _Shit_.

 Louis shook off desperately, doing his best to not panic. He only needed to push a little more and _oh for fuck’s sake! That really needed to be a joke_. His bum was stuck on the window, his chest uncomfortably pressed against the faucet and his legs floating out of the window.

 Louis looked at the cat, who had been staring at him during the whole process.

 “You must feel really happy about this, uh?”

 

 

And long story short, that was what put him in his current situation. Louis whimpers, feeling another cramp on his right leg, his chest aching from being pushed against the faucet for hours and his hair sticking to his forehead because of the sweat. He totally feels like he’s about to start crying.

 This has to be the worst and most ridiculous thing that has ever happened to him. And it’s all because of his stupid cat. 

 To make things worse, he really – _really_ , needs to use the loo right now. Louis makes another attempt to get himself out of that fucking trap he set himself into while he hears the sound of the front door opening. He stands still, completely frozen and trying to stay quiet. He hears the sound of keys and a light turns on in the living room.

 "Hey bud” the voice is deep and soft like velvet. Louis listens carefully, trying to identify someone else’s voice answering, but the only thing he can hear is Whiskers meowing “How you doing?”

 Louis sighs, feeling a little relieved. At least the guy didn’t freak out over the fact that there was an unknown cat in his living room. Now he only needs to think about a good explanation so the neighbor won’t call the police when he sees him stuck on his window. He doesn’t have much time anyway, feeling the panic creeping over his throat as he hears steps getting closer to the kitchen. 

 “Oh, are you hungry?” The voice sounds clearer as the steps get closer. Louis squints, trying to see something in the darkness of the kitchen. He perceives Mr. Whiskers silhouette standing in the door frame, its green eyes shining with the moonlight and staring directly at him. For a moment, Louis almost swears that stupid cat finds the whole situation funny.

 And suddenly, there’s the light. Louis closes his eyes and moans in pain for the sudden change in the illumination. After a few seconds he decides to open his eyes, feeling his cheeks blushing at the sight of the man watching him from the kitchen entrance with both eyebrows raised in a grin of surprise.

 “Uhm, hello?” that’s it, pretty eloquent Tomlinson.

 The neighbor's eyes remain on him, his pink lips pressed together in a thin line. Louis can’t help but notice he has green eyes. He also has long curly hair falling loose over his shoulders and his white V-neck shirt, mile long legs wrapped in impossibly tight black jeans, his feet covered with leather ankle boots.

 Whiskers meows and Louis stops staring at the man to look at the black and white cat that purrs while rubbing itself in the man’s legs.  Everything else remains silent. The tension seems to grow thicker every minute that passes but none of them says anything, Louis feeling embarrassed for the whole situation, the man in front of him probably trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

 “ _So_ ” the neighbor spokes, slowly, almost doubtful “Is there a particular reason for you being stuck in my kitchen window?”

 Louis thinks his face must look like a tomato for the amount of blood on his cheeks.

 “I-uh, I” if there’s something more embarrassing than having to explain your neighbor why your arse is stuck on his window, half of your body over his sink, that’s definitely having to explain the same thing to your _extremely_ hot neighbor. “I was trying to take my cat back home, your window was open and it sneaked in, so…” he smiles, trying to seem convincing. Because let’s be honest, that sounds utterly stupid. Luckily for him, Whiskers is right there, meowing to the sexy stranger in an effort to catch his attention.

 The brunette stares at him with a raised eyebrow yet a smile starts to show on his lips. And Louis doesn’t know if his lungs finally collapsed from being pressed against the faucet for hours, but suddenly he feels unable to breathe, looking at his neighbors shining smile and the dimples in his cheeks.

 “Okay, right ” he leans over the counter, his head resting between his hands “Where do you say is this cat of yours?”

 Louis frowns, looking at how Mr. Whiskers plays with one of the neighbor’s curls. Is this guy trying to mess up with him? Or maybe he’s a psycho. Damn, he’s a psycho and is going to murder him and throw his body in a river. Or maybe is gonna cut him into pieces and store them in his fridge to eat them later. 

 “Right there” says Louis, trying to look like he’s not having a mental breakdown while thinking of the many ways this guy could murder him. He stretches one of his arms, pointing at Whiskers. The guy turns to look beside him, and then gives Louis a confused look.

 "I think I’m gonna call the police.”

 Louis growls “It’s in front of you, for fuck’s sake, are you blind?”

 The green eyes follow Louis finger finding out he’s actually pointing at the black and white cat that is lying comfortably over the counter. When he looks back at Louis, his expression seems a little disturbed “You mean _this_ cat?”

 “Duh, yeah or do you see another cat over here?” Louis replies, rolling his eyes. He would probably take this guy joke in a more humorous way, but his back feels like it’s going to break, his legs cramping.

  _Dimples_ takes Mr. Whiskers on his arms, stepping back from the counter, a terrified look on his green eyes.

 “I definitely think I’m gonna call the police.”

 Louis snorts and makes another attempt to get out there, shaking his legs trying to push himself and holding on the edge of the sink. Not his brightest idea - _not that he has had one that day_ , he reminds himself. The horrified expression if his neighbor only gets more alarmed as he takes his phone from one of the back pockets of his jeans. Louis sighs.

 “Look mate” he says, trying to look calm “I’m sure you find all of this pretty hilarious, but seriously, I’ve been stuck in here for hours and I can’t feel my legs so… could you please help me get out and give me my cat back?”

 “This is my cat” replies the guy, hugging Mr. Whiskers closer to him like he’s afraid Louis will harm it “his name is Dusty.”

 Mr. Whiskers licks the dude’s jaw and Louis stares at him incredulously. That fucking traitor is stabbing him on the back for some bloke with a pretty face and a hot body. He should have expected it to happen; he always knew that cat wasn’t reliable.

  _Plus, he would probably do the same if he was on its place_.

 “No, his name is Mr. Whiskers and it’s mine.”

 Whiskers struggles in the boy’s arms until he releases him. The cat runs in Louis's direction, jumping to the sink and rubbing his nose against Louis cheek. The brunette stares at him in shock.

 “He- he usually doesn’t like people” murmurs the guy, more to himself than for Louis to hear it.

 “Maybe he likes me because, I don’t know, he is my cat?” Louis is starting to get a little angry. He only wants to go back to his apartment and take a hot shower, is that asking for too much?

 “Dusty” the neighbor calls and Whiskers stops purring in Louis ear to look at him. Both of them look at each other before the tall guy starts to laugh uncontrollably. Louis does the same, but stops when he feels a pain on his chest, reminding him that he’s still stuck.

 “Seems like we have been cheated” says Louis, looking at the cat with reproach. However, the smile doesn’t fade from his face “Would you mind helping me out?” he asks and his neighbor stops laughing, even looking a little sorry.

 He reaches the window, leaning a little over Louis, the soft fabric of his shirt rubbing against Louis nose. He takes a deep breath. _It smells like vanilla_. It takes him only a few seconds to open completely the kitchen window and Louis can’t help sighing in relief when his legs touch the metallic platform of the fire escape.

 He rubs his chest, trying to ease the pain. From the other side of the window, the neighbor looks at him with his bright green eyes and a sheepish smile.

 “Are you okay?”

 “I will survive” Louis answers, shrugging. There’s an awkward silence before Louis decides to ask “So… how long have you had him?” he points at the cat, that is curled inside the sink. Harry smiles while stroking at it with one of his hands.

 “It’s going to be six years in February; my sister gave him to me on my sixteenth birthday” he makes a small pause “How about you?”

 They both smile at the question.

 “It would make three years in a few weeks.”

 “Seems like you’ve been playing with us for a while, haven’t you?” asks the brunette giggling at the cat and Louis can’t help but think he is adorable.

 “Who knows how many secret families he must have by now?” he jokes and the other guy laughs. And seriously, his laugh is the most beautiful thing Louis has ever heard “So… I think I’ll go back to my apartment” He points down to his window “my back is killing me and I really need a shower.”

 The neighbor nods, watching him going down from the ladder, smile still on his face. Mr. Whiskers, _Dusty_ , Louis reminds himself, is also sitting on the cornice watching him.

 “Wait!” yells Harry and Louis almost slip from the ladder, causing him a mini heart-attack. He looks at the boy, who is biting his lower lip.

 “Yeah?”

 “Since you’re, you know… my downstairs neighbor and apparently my cat lover” Louis giggles at that comparison “At least can I know your name?”

 “Louis”

 “Oh, cool, good night Louis” Harry smile grows wider “I’m Harry, by the way.”

 “Good night Harry” Louis waves his hand, even though Harry probably can’t see him for the poor illumination of the street. He jumps through his kitchen window (thank God he doesn’t get stuck in there) and adds an “and good night to you too, _traitor_!” 

 He can hear Harry’s laugh even when he steps out of the kitchen on his way to the bathroom.

 That night, Louis Tomlinson dreams about windows, neighbors with curly hair, beautiful green eyes and perfect laughter.

 And cats, _lots of cats_.

**Author's Note:**

> So, it seems like you survived to my poor writing skills. You should definitely leave a comment, especially if you saw something I might correct (which is probably the entire thing, but shh!). Hope you liked it even with the mistakes.


End file.
